Star Trek: From Within :the prototype:
by Agent Tomcat
Summary: The basis of the epic story.
1. Captain's logs

(Author's note: these logs form the basis of the following story, and all of these as a whole will form the basis of the fully edited, revamped story that I will continue posting in a more normal format. I understand that a lot of Fan Fiction readers enjoy a more modular reading experience—that is, having a few days in between posts—but this story is not for you; instead, it is for the readers from the Subspace Comms Network, who have been waiting to see my story in a less confusing format. The original story is at my Star Trek MSN space, which is linked from my main profile. The story I will be writing for Fan Fiction readers, and, thus, for the general masses, will be a much more refined experience. Trust me.)

Captain's log, stardate 42705.10

I created my MSN space today while the U.S.S. Tomcat made its way to Instado XII to resupply a Federation outpost. Daily I long for my dear Catherine, and the long trips in space don't make it easier, but thankfully the Tomcat's next mission is back to Sector 001 for a full refit of the warp nacelles. I'll be off duty for three weeks so I'll take Catherine to Kaneka Prime for a much-needed getaway. The unadulterated time with her will be a nice reprieve from the rigors of a Starfleet life.

Captain's log, stardate 42905.01

The Tomcat has been diverted to Sector 5785 to assist the U.S.S. Nod, which sent a distress signal at 1100 hours. We will remain with the Nod until repairs are complete. The Instadan outpost will have to wait on the rest of its supplies as we are expected to rendezvous with the S.S. Timoys for passenger transfer at 1030 hours tomorrow. The Nod's repairs should take about 8 hours.

Captain's log, stardate 42905.80

We were unfortunately unable to complete the repairs to the Nod before our scheduled rendezvous with the Timoys, but now we've finished with the Timoys and are on our way to the Denunin system to drop off our new passengers. The Nod reports that it can sustain itself until we return to Sector 5785. The diversion to the Denunin system should only take about 4 hours total, and my dear Catherine is taking a small transport to meet me there. I can hardly wait to see her again. Unfortunately her duties force her to return to Sector 328-C promptly, so the visit will be short-lived, but worthwhile. Soon we will meet in the Aurora system in Sector 11548 for a scheduled shore leave for the Tomcat's crew. It's no Risa, but it's a great vacation anyway.

Captain's log, stardate 50205.01

The passengers from the Timoys were delivered to the Denunin system, the repairs to the Nod have been completed successfully, the Tomcat is now completing its resupply of the Instado XII outpost, and I had a wonderful romantic dinner with my dear Catherine overlooking the luminescent plasma falls of Denunin V before her return to Sector 328-C. Today she sent a communiqué about her relocation to Sector 11548, and that she's in the process of transporting her equipment to the planet Aurora Center. This transfer is amazingly convenient since that's the exact planet for the Tomcat's scheduled shore leave. Someone must be watching out for us since the majority of the Tomcat's missions until its upcoming refit are based around Aurora Center--mostly cataloging gaseous anomalies and overseeing trade negotiations between friendly races. I don't want to push it, but I would like to know if there's anything or anyone behind this. Starfleet will be receiving an official note of inquiry from me . . . but I'll do it from Kaneka Prime.

Captain's log, stardate 50305.02

The Tomcat has received emergency orders to return to Instado XII. There have been reports of outbreaks of hysteria among the officers at the outpost and Starfleet believes it may have something to do with the supplies we delivered. Hopefully it's not: we had those supplies on board for quite a number of days. The last thing I need on my ship is mass hysteria, mostly because of my concern for the safety of the crew, but also (admittedly, more selfishly) because the required quarantine period would make me miss both the scheduled shore leave at Aurora Center and the three-week vacation to Kaneka Prime. Such a delay would keep me from Catherine for much too long. Chief Engineer Self and First Officer Chester Crowe have begun an investigation into the possibility of the supplies having any relation to the events on Instado XII, and Doctor Lynn Yerian has been testing the crew for signs of hysteria. So far the crew seems to be completely fine.

Captain's log, supplemental:

Doctor Yerian has completed testing all of the crew except one: Ensign Lana Bradshaw, whom we cannot find. Apparently she had the most contact with the supplies because she took over extra watch shifts when Ensign Rory Preston, who was in charge of the watch crew for the supplies, came down with a case of the Thelusian flu and had to be quarantined. She is not in her quarters and the internal sensors cannot locate her or her communicator. A ship-wide search has begun, but we only have an hour before we reach the outpost.

Captain's log, stardate 50405.35

Ensign Bradshaw was finally found just as we reached the outpost, but she had changed somehow. Her very genetic makeup had been altered into some kind of alien hybrid, which explains why the sensors couldn't find her. She doesn't even look human. Bradshaw bit Doctor Yerian when she went to sickbay, but because of the doctor's alien physiology she hasn't mutated--instead she's been wandering aimlessly around the ship muttering random things like "Holy halibut!", "Yes, precious!", "Great scot, the Force has you, precious!", and "Bob's yer uncle!" Needless to say, she's in no condition to find a cure for anything. Her medical staff is looking for a way to expel the virus that's causing all of this, but their reports are not promising. Yerian is no threat to anyone, but since we don't know how the virus transmits, she's been confined to quarters, and Bradshaw had to be transported to the brig, both on full biological quarantine. Chief Engineer Self is the only one who cannot be affected by the virus since his human brain is protected by his android body, so he's been sent to the outpost to quarantine the affected officers and work jointly with the medical staff to find a cure. We can't be sure the virus is contained at the moment, so I've ordered every crew member to report for a regular check-up to cargo bay 3. Hopefully we can find a remedy before the virus spreads to any more people.

Captain's log, stara!e 50&-.12

don't . . . have much time . . . officers from the outpost . . . taken over . . . Self . . . found way to expel virus . . . can't think straight . . . losing mind

Captain's log, supplemental:

Self expelled the virus from Doctor Yerian, but for some reason she is still saying the same random things she did while she was under the virus's influence--less frequently by far, but enough to make it quite funny. It's improved her bedside manner a bit, from what I hear. She has returned to her post already and is busy writing a detailed report about the new virus.

Chief Engineer's log, stardate 51005.01:

At 330 hours on stardate 50405.35 I was sent to the outpost at Instado XII to find a way to expel a new mutagen that had taken hold of the officers of the outpost and two crew members aboard the Tomcat, Ensign Bradshaw and Doctor Lynn Yerian. By 530 hours, Ensign Bradshaw, in her mutated state, had found a way to escape from the confines of the brig and attack the two guards posted over her. From there, she ran rampant through the corridors until security chief Jeffrey Debbs confined her between a series of high-level forcefields. Unfortunately, everyone she attacked, beginning with the two security guards, began mutating even faster than she had, and Lt. Debbs couldn't confine them fast enough. It was only a matter of minutes until almost the entire ship was overrun with mutated beings, excluding the bridge. The bridge crew tried every method to keep the attacking mutations off of the bridge, but by my last communiqué with them from the planet, the mutations had broken through and were attacking relentlessly. Somehow the mutated officers from the outpost managed to transport aboard the Tomcat and began taking over key systems in an attempt to hijack the ship. I had finally found a way to expel the mutagen just before the officers transported, and so I transported aboard and began the slow process of treating every mutated being. The majority of the time I had to fight a group into submission or unconsciousness to administer the remedy, so it took a while. The mutagen has been named the Instado Mystery Virus since we still do not know where it came from or how it was transmitted. For now, it has been stopped, and after reconfiguring the sensors, I have determined that it is nowhere on the Tomcat or the Instadan outpost. Hopefully it stays gone.

Captain's log, stardate 51005.01

The entire ordeal is finally over for good. Thankfully, Self was able to expel the virus from every member of the Tomcat's crew and every officer from the outpost. I am including his log to explain the events of the past few days. Currently the Tomcat is being ordered to Starbase 84 for thorough decon and a day of shore leave.

Captain's log, stardate 51205.10

We arrived at Starbase 84 just yesterday at 2300 hours. Thankfully the Tomcat's decon and quarantine period will be short. We will have to remain on active duty on the starbase until decon is complete, but right now we're enjoying our day of shore leave. I've noticed that we have a lot of shore leave coming up: next week is our scheduled shore leave to Aurora Center, and just a month or so from now is the Tomcat's warp nacelle refit, during which we get a three-week vacation. I'm beginning to think Starfleet is softening us up. We're one of the most prominent warships in the fleet, carrying much more firepower and defenses than any Akira-class vessel, and even more than the other Agent-class vessels, and yet we'll be conducting science missions in Sector 11548--not that I'm complaining since I get to see Catherine a lot during that time, but it just makes me wonder how effective we'll be at defending the Federation should it fall under attack. I think I'll go ahead and submit that official inquiry about the missions around Aurora Center.

Captain's log, stardate 51805.05

It's late, and I'm tired as a halibut, so I'm going to sleep. But I just can't get over the reply I got from Starfleet concerning the Tomcat's activity in Sector 11548. It's a relief in one sense, but it's also very disturbing. Apparently there have been secret dealings with a new race called the Suundel--a Gamma Quadrant race that is extremely aggressive, but not overtly war-like, whose entire culture centers around taking enemies without a fight (I'd almost call them an assassin race)--for the past five years. In those five years, they've been studying the races of the Federation in depth, presumably for the purposes of a takeover. Starfleet Intelligence has reports of involvement by the Breen, a fact which raises quite a few concerned eyebrows of its own, and they fear possible invasion within the next year. I am to receive an update in a few days about the specifics of the missions we'll be performing around Sector 11548, and I'm told they'll all be highly classified and dangerous, but the main feeling I get is that we'll be monitoring activity and setting up new defense lines. Sector 11548 is on the outskirts of Federation space, and the most likely entry point for the Suundel should they bring an all-out attack.

My relief comes from the fact that Starfleet is not indeed playing down the Tomcat's purpose, but my concern comes from the fact that there may be yet another invasion attempt of the Federation. After the Borg and the Dominion, I thought we'd be through, but it seems this galaxy is reaching a point of grave unrest, which is exactly why classes like Agent, December, and Sol were developed. Let's just hope all our efforts are not useless against this possible new foe. And let's hope that I can get Catherine out of harm's way. I really don't want her to be involved in a new war. I don't know what I'd do without her.

Captain's log, stardate 52405.12

I finally received an update from Starfleet concerning the Suundel. All of the missions are highly classified, so I can't put any of them in my log just yet, but I will say that Catherine is involved in the majority of them. She's one of the top scientists in her field, but I'm confused about how her expertise in tachyon conversion fields makes her necessary for these missions. I'm concerned for her safety, and I don't know how Starfleet overlooked the conflict of interests that's being created by having me work with my girlfriend on such dangerous missions. Our work together to solve the crisis at Na-Ro III was considered exemplary by the top brass, and may have been a deciding factor in her assignment to these missions, but that was before we knew each other, before there was a conflict of interests. We'll just have to work it out and prioritize the mission above our personal feelings. I hope the Suundel don't decide to attack before we're ready.

Captain's log, stardate 53105.15

While performing one of our missions, the Tomcat encountered a Suundel advance scout ship making its way through the Aurora system. We have established communication, but their language is so confusing that even the universal translators can't translate the majority of it. We get a word here or there, but not nearly enough to make sense of it. Apparently the lack of communication has made the crew of the scout ship very confused and angry, so we have broken communication for now. We somehow reached an agreement to stay here until we can figure out our communication barrier. We cannot let the Suundel ship further into Federation space. If they truly are a threat, they cannot be allowed to continue whatever mission they're on. Their reaction indicates a desire to communicate, however, and I think there's something about this race that we're missing. I need to investigate more.

Captain's log, stardate 60705.10

It has taken us seven days to make any progress with the Suundel. In those seven days, I have seen them be more generous with their information than we have, and I really can't see how they are a threat--except that their technology seems far superior. They have sent us many files, one of which we believe to be their alphabet.

We have made enough progress to agree to let our linguistics specialists meet in a shuttlecraft that can be monitored by both sides. Lieutenant Wade Burgan, our linguistics specialist, will leave in just half an hour and, as a gesture of good faith, will pilot our shuttlecraft into the Suundel's shuttlebay to pick up their specialist. The Suundel have proven more eager to understand us than any species except the Tamarians, and they have shown nothing but great respect and friendliness toward us. I've been going over Starfleet's accounts of past encounters with the Suundel, and they all seem to point to misconduct by Starfleet, but I am not in the business of accusing my superiors of treason, so until there is no other option, I will not bring up that issue again. I just hope all goes well on the shuttlecraft.

Captain's log, stardate 60805.02

Lieutenant Burgan and the Suundel linguistics specialist, whose name we have found out is Klaanlwidmic (Romanized as closely as possible, obviously), have been on that shuttlecraft together for almost 13 hours straight. Wade has been updating his logs from the shuttlecraft, and this is the most recent:

Lieutenant's log, stardate 60805.01:

This is the single most confusing language I've come across in my lifetime, but it's also the most exciting experience I've had the pleasure of being involved in. The alphabet of the Suundel seems to be based on a complex system of phonetics and simplified hieroglyphics, and Klaan's (as I've come to call him) name can be spelled three different ways, each with a different emotional or moral implication. Each character can represent a different set of vowel and consonant sound groups, or it can represent an entire abstract concept, and depending on which is indicated, a name, place, or object can be spelled or a whole epic story can be told--within the same amount of characters. For example, Klaan's name actually tells a small story about a Suundel boy who once stood alone against an incredible army of alien invaders, but arose victorious because the army underestimated him and ran past him right into the countless traps he had laid; it was actually because his parents so admired this concept of standing alone against incredible odds that Klaan was given his name. It would be sort of like a human child being named Bravery, or a Vulcan child being named Logic, but this is the norm in their culture, it seems. The universal translator will never be able to compensate for such complexity.

I received a very disturbing piece of information from Klaan once we finally gained an understanding of each other: there is a renegade sect of the Suundel who wish to spark a war for unknown reasons, and they are the ones with whom Starfleet has had contact for the past five years. They have formed a blockade of their home planet, and overthrown the current government. It is not the wish of the Suundel government to go to war, and this advance scout is the only ship that has managed to escape from the blockade to tell us.

This information has already been sent to Starfleet, and I hope to hear from them very soon regarding a course of action. The Suundel crew has requested asylum within Federation space, and I have temporarily granted it to them until I hear a final word from Starfleet. Organizing an attack on an assassin race seems out of the question, but intervention now may be the only way to avert all-out war.

Captain's log, stardate 061205.50

The meeting with the Suundel has ceased and we are currently hosting several members of their crew on board. Starfleet has ordered the U.S.S. Okinawa and the U.S.S. Thunderchild to escort the Suundel ship to Starbase 718. Wade has volunteered to stay with the Suundel to assist in translation and write his report on their language. I'm simply amazed that he was able to pick up on their language so quickly. I always knew he was gifted, but this is unprecedented.

I'm not quite sure if this group of Suundel are telling the truth, but they're much too generous with their information for me to think they have anything to hide, and the thought of returning to their space seems to frighten them, so I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt. All the same, the crew members who came aboard are being monitored constantly, and I've posted extra security teams to the vital parts of the ship. I haven't allowed the visitors onto the bridge, but I have met with one of them in Ten Forward for lunch, and they seem like a very pleasant race.

Once the Thunderchild and Okinawa get here, we will complete our missions around the Aurora system. The mission that was interrupted by the Suundel intrusion cannot be completed now, so we will go directly to Aurora Center to take Catherine and some of her team aboard. They will remain on board for our last two missions, and once those are complete, Catherine and I will take our vacation to Kaneka Prime. Three weeks of unadulterated time together, without work or worries. I can't wait!

Captain's log, stardate 061605.02

Our final mission is done, Catherine's science team has been dropped off at Aurora Center, and she and I are preparing to leave for Kaneka Prime aboard the captain's yacht. We will leave in about 32 hours. Meanwhile we are enjoying the first part of our vacation together on the holodeck. Chester has command of the Tomcat, and I can think of no more capable hands to leave her in. I can rest at ease on Kaneka Prime. Until I resume command of the Tomcat, I will leave no more logs.

Captain's log, stardate 071105.12

I have returned to active duty as of 1200 hours, Catherine has returned to the Aurora system, and Chester has kept the Tomcat in perfect working order while I've been away, so I bought him a drink. The latest news on the Suundel is that we will be organizing a preemptive strike on the rogue sect to attempt to release their blockade of the Suundel homeworld. The Tomcat will be leading the attack fleet.


	2. From Within, chapter 1

Captain Shawn Thornburg sat calmly in his ready room pondering the words of William Wordsworth when his first officer Chester Crowe burst through the door, completely bypassing the obligatory door chime.

"Captain! I need to talk to you."

"Chuck, I don't think I need to remind you of the terrible breach of protocol you've just—"

"Not that again, Shawn, this is more important than protocol."

"What could possibly be so important?"

"I'm pregnant."

The Captain looked surprised, and was obviously holding in a laugh. He knew Chester was half Credosian, a species whose males give birth, but it still sounded strange. He jumped up to congratulate his friend nonetheless. "That's great news, Chuck!"

Chester gave the captain a cross look. "It's not funny, Shawn."

"No, no, of course it isn't! It just caught me off guard. I thought for sure you'd get your wife pregnant first."

"So did I. When I went to Doctor Yerian before Zotia and I married, she told me my Credosian womb wouldn't support a child, and my human reproductive organs would get in the way anyway."

"Have you told her yet?"

"Who, the doctor or Zotia?"

"Zotia."

"She was the first one to find out. We think that somehow she's the one who impregnated me."

"And Lynn?"

"Doctor Yerian? I'm on my way to sickbay right now. I just had to let you know immediately. You're the second one to know."

"Thanks, Chuck. Now go see Lynn and tell her I want a report on my desk ASAP. I really want to know how a human female can impregnate a Credosian male."

"Aye, Captain. I'd love to know as well." Chester darted out of the room and went straight to the turbolift. The Captain sat for a few minutes in his ready room before putting his PADD on his desk and standing to stretch. He strolled out to the bridge, where the graveyard shift was just getting under way.

"Captain on deck!" hollered a brand new ensign out of nervousness. Everyone stood at quick attention out of reflex, but started laughing when they realized what had happened. The Captain walked over to the ensign, who was the only one still saluting.

"At ease, ensign. What's your name?"

The ensign relaxed and said, "Ensign Michael Santos, sir."

"Michael, you were posted here just a few days ago, right? From Starbase 379? Michael, there are some things we need to discuss about my ship. I was going to do this in another few days, after you had settled into your routine, but now I think I should do it tomorrow. Are you scheduled for the entire graveyard shift?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Alright, then meet me in my ready room just when your shift ends. Right now I'm tired, and I'm going to sleep. Goodnight, Michael."

"Aye—um, goodnight, Captain?"

The Captain strolled to the turbolift with a snicker on his face. He loved being reassured that his ship was still the closest-knit ship in the protocol-obsessed Federation.

* * *

The next morning, the young ensign walked into the ready room and stood stiff in front of the Captain's desk, staring at the wall.

"At ease, Michael. Take a seat," said the Captain. Ensign Santos quickly seated himself in one of the chairs, avoiding eye contact with his superior officer.

"Do you mind if I call you Michael?"

"No, Captain."

"Do you prefer to be called anything else?"

". . . My friends call me Mick, Captain."

"May I call you Mick? Answer honestly."

"Honestly, yes, Captain."

"Speak freely, Mick. You were at the Academy before you were stationed at Starbase 379, right?"

Michael relaxed. "Yes, sir."

"Don't talk so much, Mick, you'll wear out your vocal chords."

"Sorry, Captain."

"It was sarcasm. You're barely talking. Tell me more about yourself. Just go for it."

He began uneasily, ". . . I was born in Brazil, where I studied to become an engineer. When I went to Starfleet Academy, I combined engineering with my love of weapons and created brand new lethal and non-lethal weapons. My non-lethal weapons proved to be even more effective and efficient than my lethal ones and I was commended for ingenuity. I requested a post on the Tomcat and it was granted, so I was sent to Starbase 379 to await clearance. Which brings us here, Captain."

"That's why I granted the posting, Mick. I need your prodigious knowledge of weapons to augment the Tomcat's current array. There's a new threat on the horizon that only a few ships and Starfleet's top brass are privy to, and the kinds of weapons you've produced could ensure victory. Here's the file." He handed Michael a PADD. "Study this when you wake up. Right now, go get some sleep. You look like you're about to fall over."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Oh, and Mick, I want you to speak like this the entire time you're on the ship, no matter whom you're talking to. I run a close-knit group of friends, not an uptight group of nervous wrecks. That fact alone has kept my crews on top through all of my command posts."

"Aye, Captain. I'll keep it in mind." Ensign Santos left the ready room and walked straight to the turbolift to get a good day's rest. Soon, the door chimed.

"Come in," said the Captain. Chester Crowe walked through the door, his head hung low. "What is it, Chuck?"

"Shawn, I have bad news and good news. Here's Lynn's report." He handed the Captain a PADD, which the Captain started looking over immediately.

"Chuck, this looks like great news. Your pregnancy is going just fine."

"That's the good news."

"What's the bad?"

"The attack has begun."

"The Suundel?"

"Yes. Five planets have just been attacked simultaneously."

The Captain's face grew solemn out of concern for the Federation. "Where?"

Chester hesitated. "In the Aurora System."

The Captain's face grew even more solemn—out of concern for Catherine. "Which planets? There are fifteen planets in the Aurora system."

"Syrora, Jonal, Dinora, Cherkon, and . . ."

"What planet? Chuck, what planet? Tell me."

"Aurora Center."

The Captain closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Catherine . . ." he whispered to himself. "Why those five?"

"Those are the only five habitable planets in the system. There are only small research stations on or above the other ten."

Captain Thornburg rose quickly from his seat and marched past Chester onto the bridge. "Helm, set course for Aurora Center, maximum warp! Engage!"

Chester stood behind him. "Captain, don't you think that's just a bit brash?"

"Number One, we—" He cut himself off to calm his voice. "We need to gather more information on the attacks of the Suundel if we are to find and track them. Aurora Center seems like the best place to start. There may be survivors."

"Captain—"

"Those are my orders, Chuck. Go tell Lynn to prepare for injured passengers." Chester stared at the Captain. "Go, Chuck. Now."

"Aye, Captain." Chester made his way to sickbay and began helping Dr. Yerian prepare for emergency passengers. The Captain took his seat on the bridge. "What do we have on long range sensors?"

Chief Security Officer Jeffrey Debbs replied, "I'm reading minimal life signs on Aurora Center, Captain. Weapon traces are minimal and unrecognizable. I'm reading high amounts of residual radiation."

"Residual from what?"

"It looks like it's from within the planet itself. The core is . . . heating up."

"The core of the planet? How long do we have until the planet is uninhabitable?"

"It's hard to tell, Captain, but a safe estimate is three hours."

"Three hours! Helm, what's our arrival time?"

"We will arrive at Aurora Center in twenty minutes."

"Increase to emergency speed. Lieutenant Commander Johnson, what could cause the planet's core to heat up that fast?"

Science Officer Jordan Johnson gave the Captain a measured response. "In light of the Suundel incursion, the logical assumption would be—"

The Captain interrupted, "I don't need your assumptions and Vulcan logic, Jordan, I need your ideas."

Jordan's Bajoran side came out slightly. "Captain, I guess it's related to the Suundel attack."

"You're a lot of help. Helm, what's our ETA now?"

"Ten minutes, Captain."

"Are any of the other planets being affected in the same way, Jeff?"

"Affirmative, Captain." A tone sounded on Jeffrey's security station. "Captain, we're being hailed."

"On screen." The viewscreen switched from its steady stream of stars to the visage of Admiral Rudgard Uhrlaub. The Captain stood and smiled.

The Admiral spoke, "Captain Thornburg, it's good to see you again."

"The feeling's mutual, Admiral."

"Shawn, I am informing you that I will be meeting you at Aurora Center in fifteen minutes. I have the Suundel officers from the scout ship, and they have some knowledge that will be extremely helpful. Lieutenant Burgan is also with me, and we are going to reverse the damage done by the Suundel weapons."

"It was the Suundel weapons that did this?"

"Affirmative, but fortunately we know how to counter it now. Proceed with your rescue and we will be there shortly. Catherine is dear to me as well and I want to see her alive as much as you do."

"Thank you, Rudy."

"Admiral Uhrlaub out." The screen flickered back to its stream of stars. Captain Thornburg felt relieved and took his seat again. Soon they would arrive at Aurora Center and find Catherine at all costs, whatever her condition.


	3. From Within, chapter 2

Aurora Center lay ruined against black space, a gray shroud covering its once blue surface, orange fireballs randomly piercing the pall. Like an explosion the Tomcat warped into the area and approached the dying planet. Captain Thornburg sat nervously in the captain's seat, and though his years of command gave him a calm, collected exterior, his first officer saw right through it. "We'll find her, Shawn."

The Captain just shot him a blank look and stood up. "Jeff, are there survivors?"

"I'm reading 124 life signs on the side furthest from the initial blast. Captain, a Federation research station is housing almost 80 of them, and the rest are scattered around the main land mass. Only 37 of them appear to be injured."

The Captain's heart leapt into his throat. "Thornburg to Yerian. Are you prepared for 37 patients?"

The doctor's voice came back, "Yes, Captain. I'm prepared for 137 patients. Doncha ken?"

"Good. Thornburg to San Miguel. Let's begin transporting survivors, injured first."

Transporter Chief Haylee San Miguel acknowledged. "Aye, Captain. Transporting directly to sickbay."

"Jeff, how long until the December arrives?"

"The U.S.S. December will arrive in four minutes and fifteen seconds. Admiral Uhrlaub sends orders to collect survivors from the other four planets."

"Send confirmation. How long until we get everybody up here?"

"Getting the last batch now, Captain," said Haylee.

"That was quick. Is Catherine Lim among them?"

"Captain, none of the Federation personnel have that name, and there are 40 individuals without communicators, so I cannot say."

The Captain stood in silence for a few moments. "Attention all personnel. This is Captain Shawn Thornburg. If Catherine Lim is on board, please respond."

There was no response.

"Doctor Yerian, is Catherine Lim in sickbay?"

"Captain, all of my patients have been identified, and Catherine Lim is not among them."

Shawn's heart dropped and his pulse quickened. Without a word he darted to the turbolift. Every eye on the bridge followed him in wonderment, and just before the doors shut, the Captain said, "Chuck, you have the bridge. Go get those other survivors."

"Captain! Where are you—" Chester looked up. "Crowe to Thornburg. Where do you think you're going?" He heard no response. "Captain, where are you going?" Still no response. "Shawn!"

Eventually the Captain's voice came back, "I'm going to get her, Chuck. If you try to stop me I'll have you removed from duty."

"Captain . . ."

"You'd do the same for Zee."

Chester sighed. "Aye, Captain." He turned to the helm. "Set course for Syrora."

"Course set, sir."

Jeffrey responded to the beeps on his console. "Sir, an unscheduled shuttle is leaving the shuttlebay."

"It's the Captain. Let him go."

"Aye, sir. The U.S.S. December has just arrived."

"Let the Admiral know the Captain's status. Helm, let's go. Warp 1."

A lone shuttle flew from the rear of the Tomcat just as the huge ship slipped into warp. The U.S.S. December looked formidable from the shuttle's cockpit as it entered orbit. Admiral Uhrlaub's voice sounded over the shuttle's speakers. "Shawn, I want you to explain to me how what you're doing is not considered abandonment."

"Rudy, I don't have to explain anything. You know that I'm ensuring that the Tomcat's sensors are indeed not damaged and that the survivor count they provided is accurate."

"Shawn, a ship's captain is not the person for that job—and this is certainly not the time!"

"You can put it in your official report. Start reversing the damage. Don't worry about me."

"Shawn, I want to see Catherine alive, too, but this is too brash! You are ordered to return to—"

The December's security officer interrupted the Admiral. "We've been cut off, Admiral." 

The shuttle continued toward the planet's gray atmosphere like a juggernaut, and the Captain's conviction continued to be absolute: Catherine would be home very soon.

* * *

"Admiral, the shuttle has reached the surface," said the December's security chief.

"Thank you. Uhrlaub to engineering . . ."

A gruff voice came over the comm system. "Engineering here."

"Will the reversal operation affect living beings on the surface of the planet?"

"Not if we're far enough away from them. We need to get to the initial blast point to use the procedure, and there probably won't be anything living there at this point."

"Thank you. Helm, move us into geo-synchronous orbit above the Suundel blast point." The Admiral turned to Lieutenant Wade Burgan, who was standing with two of the defected Suundel officers on the bridge. "Lieutenant Burgan, please escort the Suundel officers to engineering to begin the reversal procedure, and do remember to thank them for their help."

"Aye, Admiral. In their culture, however, the act of helping is thanks enough, and thanking them any more is an insult."

"Understood, Lieutenant. Proceed."

The December took orbit above a great burning circle on the surface of the gray planet, and Captain Thornburg could barely make out its shape through the grayness of the upper atmosphere; the shuttle was bucking in the turbulent air, though, so he needed to give his attention to the controls. In no time, the shuttle was on the ground and the Captain was out and on his way into the Federation outpost, tricorder in hand. "Catherine has to be in there," he thought to himself. "Maybe she's just in a shielded containment area. I have to hope." He jogged up the sweeping steps in front of the main building and pried open the front doors. Once inside the enormous main hall, he started calling Catherine's name, but only an echo returned. His tricorder showed nothing near, so he started toward the nearest turbolift. A sound stopped him: a footstep echoed throughout the hall. Again the Captain scanned the area with his tricorder and again it showed nothing, so he just walked to where he thought the footstep originated. But as soon as he turned the nearest corner, the back of his head started throbbing and his vision began going blurry—he knew he had been hit from behind. Just before he lost consciousness, he felt the distinct tingle of a transporter beam and saw the world around him disintegrate into blackness.

* * *

When he awoke, his head was still throbbing and he could barely see, but as he soon realized, the latter was because the room he was in was almost pitch black. Except for the soft glow of an oddly shaped ring of light a few meters away, there was no other light around him. He began to feel around him; at first all he could feel was a cold metal floor, but immediately he found himself squeezing something soft and fleshy and a warm hand grabbed his wrist and squeezed painfully tight. A female voice boomed,"Don't ever touch me there again or you'll lose this hand!"

He was startled and confused, so he relied on protocol and said,"I'm Captain Shawn Thornburg of the U.S.S. Tomcat. I mean you no harm. Please let go of my wrist and tell me who you are and where this is."

Immediately the hand released its death grip and the voice replied,"Captain Thornburg, I am Commander Julara Nofsinger of the Aurora Center outpost. I apologize for my reaction, sir, but you grabbed my . . . somewhere you shouldn't have grabbed."

"I apologize, Commander, but I can't see in this room. Where are we?"

"I don't know for sure, Captain, but I believe we're in the brig of the Suundel ship that attacked the planet. There are 52 of us in here."

"Are you all from the outpost?"

"Affirmative, Captain."

His heart jumped. "Is Catherine Lim in here?"

"Affirmative. She's sleeping near the forcefield emitters."

No sooner did Julara finish her sentence than the Captain was on his way over to Catherine. As soon as he reached her, he threw his arms around her and began kissing her cheek until she awoke. "Catherine, wake up. Catherine . . . "

She began to stir slowly, but once her eyes focused on the Catpain's face, she jumped up and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Shawn, I'm so glad you're here! I've been so worried." She buried her face in his shoulder and started sobbing.

"It's okay, Catherine. I'm here now. It's okay."

Julara walked slowly over to them and said to the Captain,"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but we've all been up for at least twenty hours, so we should really be resting."

"Right, Commander. I'll still be here when you wake up, Catherine. Right now I need to think."

"Alright, Shawn. I love you. Don't go anywhere." She smiled and almost as quickly as she had awakened, she fell back asleep.

"Commander Nofsinger, I'm going to start searching for a way out of here. If you're the highest ranking officer here besides me, can I count on you to be my acting First Officer?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Good. Now you should keep resting as well. The next move is theirs."

Julara returned to her spot while the Captain began examining what he could in the dim light. He didn't have his tricorder, phaser, or communicator, so he was going to have to improvise. He needed to gather information about his captors, and much of that would happen when the other prisoners awakened, but he might be able to get a jump on the process. He looked as far down the hall as possible in both ways, but all he could see was the dim light of other force field emitters reflecting against the opposing wall. He looked around him and found no panels, no creases, no lines of any kind, just the solid metallic substance that made up the curved walls and floors of the brig. He tapped the force field with his finger and immediately his entire right arm was sore—these force fields were made for holding prisoners at all costs short of death. He figured that might come in handy at some point. At that moment he heard footsteps approaching, so he looked down the hallway again and saw two figures approaching. Their cloaks were the first things he could see because they were stark white, then he could see their faces—they were definitely Suundel. They approached the force field and started speaking to the Captain, but he couldn't understand them. After repeating the same phrase a few times, they started becoming visibly angry. Soon, they aimed their elegant pistols right at the Captain and lowered the force field, taking him out of the cell and raising the force field behind them. They led the Captain down the hall at gunpoint to what looked like a transporter pad, then pushed him onto it. As soon as he was on the pad, the Captain saw the two Suundel disappear and be replaced by dozens, all dressed much more extravagantly and armed much more impressively. The room he was now in was mostly bright white, but with lines of brownish orange lining all of the walls in elegant patterns. The layout of the room clearly indicated a command function—the bridge—and the Suundel officer sitting in the center chair was obviously in command. It was this officer who spoke first, but again the Captain could not understand the language; instead of remaining quiet, he decided to voice his opinion, whether they could understand him or not.

"I am Captain Shawn Thornburg of the Federation Starship Tomcat. You have brought us here against our wills; you have committed an act of war against the Federation by your actions in the Aurora system; and you have performed an act of betrayal against your own people. Explain your actions."

The Suundel commander spoke to some of the officers around him and then motioned to the nearest wall. An image of the December materialized. This was obviously their viewscreen. The December was firing a beam at the surface of a planet that must have been Aurora Center, but in a few minutes, when an explosion erupted from the planet's surface, the December cut the beam and left orbit at warp speed. Soon the explosion grew, and in just a matter of seconds the entire planet was engulfed in fire. The Captain watched in horror as Aurora Center broke apart, flaming pieces floating away and the molten core oozing out into space. The viewscreen cut out and the Suundel commander issued several orders to the officers around him. Two officers approached the Captain and forced him back onto the transporter pad, and immediately he was back with the two prison guards. For the rest of the night, the Captain couldn't get the image out of his mind; he kept imagining planets like Earth and Vulcan meeting the same fate; the Federation being crippled and at the mercy of this unknown race. But then he thought about the Borg and how the Federation managed to beat them back—the most ruthless and unstoppable race in the galaxy—and he knew that somehow the Federation and Starfleet would find a way. They would win.


	4. From Within, chapter 3

The Captain awoke to a soft hand on his face and chattering voices in the background. He could see through his groggy eyes that the room was lit and several human-shaped figures stood around him; when his eyes adjusted and focused, he saw Catherine and four other figures whom he did not recognize. "How long have I been out?" he asked.

Catherine was the first one to respond. "A good nine hours, Shawn. Let me introduce you to Commander Julara Nofsinger, and Lieutenant Commanders Davis Wood, Kylie Black, and Hixana Kigara Stuchlik."

"Yes, Commander Nofsinger and I have already been introduced." He blushed and Catherine tilted her head in wonderment. "I'll explain later, Catherine. Lieutenant Commander Stuchlik, that whole thing's your name, huh?"

Hixana responded with curiosity, "Yes, Captain. Why?"

"Do you like to go by the whole thing or can I call you something shorter?"

"You may call me Kig, Captain. In case you are wondering, Kigara is my given name and the other two are my family names, Hixana being my father's and Stuchlik—"

"It's alright, Kig, I get it." He interrupted when he saw the thin brown lines covering her hands in swirling patterns, which meant that she was a Skyrian, a race notorious for giving much more information than requested, and he wanted to avoid a lecture. "Commander Nofsinger, let's get everyone into a meeting. We need to pool our resources and knowledge," he said as he stood up.

"Aye, Captain." She turned around and motioned for everyone to gather around.

"I am Captain Shawn Thornburg of the U.S.S. Tomcat. We have all been kidnapped against our wills, and we need to work together if we are to survive. I need to know if anyone remembers how everyone was brought here."

One lieutenant stepped forward and began speaking: "Captain, I am Lieutenant Brad Martin. Almost all of us were in the main hangar waiting to depart by shuttlecraft when a squad of Suundel materialized around us and stunned us all at once. It was a surprise attack."

The Captain thought out loud, "Why wouldn't they just beam everyone straight to the brig instead of risking their own troops?" Then he asked the group, "Who wasn't in the main hangar at the time of capture?"

Commander Nofsinger replied, "There were about 80 other personnel making their way to the main hangar. All of our shuttles had already departed and some of them were going to get the reserve shuttles and roundabouts in the storage hangars a few miles away from the base (we had additional personnel this month so our usual shuttle complement couldn't handle the extra load). We don't know what happened to them."

"That must be the 80 survivors the Tomcat transported. We also found a little over 40 survivors scattered around the main land mass. But is there anyone here who wasn't in the hangar?"

A tall man of medium build stepped through the crowd, followed by two other men, all in civilian clothing. The tall man said, "My name is Red Ervin, and these are my two associates J.A. Morris and S.K. Lee. We were on the far side of the planet, and we were abducted in the same way as the rest of these people."

The Captain asked, "What were you doing? How did you survive the blast? Why didn't our sensors detect you on the planet?"

J.A. spoke up. "We were conducting research for a private party, Captain. Your sensors probably didn't detect us because we were deep underground, which is also why we survived the blast."

"You must have been surrounded by a jamming field. What kind of research were you doing? Who is this private party?"

"Captain," said S.K., "these are very prying questions. We are not at liberty to discuss the details of our research or the party we represent, so please do not ask us any more questions. All you need to know is that we are as anxious to get out of here as you are. We may even be able to resume our research if we don't lose too much time."

The Captain was about to tell them about Aurora Center's destruction, but he didn't even get the first word out before the walls lit up and he started to black out; before his vision cut out completely he saw everyone else fall to the floor. He knew they had all been stunned.

* * *

Commander Crowe stood on the bridge of the Tomcat, tapping his foot anxiously. On the viewscreen, the December was orbiting a burning planet and firing a beam into the middle of the blaze. Minutes went by before Chuck turned to Jeffrey Debbs and said, "Jeff, hail the Admiral again."

The visage of Admiral Uhrlaub replaced the December on the viewscreen. "Commander Crowe, stop hailing me. I know you want to do more, but we need you here to guard against attack."

"Admiral, I believe the Tomcat's sensor dish can be reconfigured to emit the same beam you're using. We can ensure the safety of the remaining planets by—"

"Commander, I know the sensor dish can be reconfigured, but you need both Suundel science officers to compensate for the variables."

"Can the computer do it, Admiral?"

"If we thought it could, you'd already be performing the procedure on the remaining planets. We've already lost one planet, and I don't intend to lose another. The procedure is actually working this time, and since you've already transported the remaining survivors to safety, we need you here. You're helping just by being here. There's no need to be anxious. Uhrlaub out."

Chuck turned to Jeff. "Anything, Jeff?"

"I'm still detecting no suspicious or anomalous readings, sir."

Chuck mumbled to himself, "The most powerful ship in the Federation and we're powerless to do anything."

The turbolift doors opened and Doctor Yerian waltzed onto the bridge with a happy step. She walked straight up to Chuck and stared at him.

"What is it, Lynn?" said Chuck after he started feeling uncomfortable.

"The injured survivors have been healed, Chuck."

"Good job, Lynn."

"Jist so, Chuck. But I also need to inform you that it's a boy."

". . . What?"

"It's a boy! Not a what! The thing growing inside of you. Your baby!"

"You came all the way to the bridge to tell me that?"

"No, but I wanted to see how everything else was going so I thought I'd kill two Tribbles with one Klingon. It looks like it's going great! Too bad that fire's really dangerous or it would be pretty."

"Lynn, I think you may still have that virus."

"Maybe, but it likes it, precious."

"What? Lynn, just . . . go prepare some samples or something."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. Just do it. In sickbay. Not here."

"Alrighty then," she said, suddenly changing to a British accent, "I'll just toddle off, then, guv." She strolled back to the turbolift, a smile on her face.

"Just remember, Lynn, you're still a Starfleet officer and you are expected to conduct yourself accordingly."

Just before the turbolift doors closed, she bowed, extended a hand, and said, "Bob's yer uncle!"

The bridge was too quiet. Chuck took a seat in the command chair and tried not to look at anyone.

After a few minutes a chime sounded from the tactical arch. Jeff said, "The Admiral is hailing us, sir. On screen?"

"Yes, Jeff," said Chuck as he stood up. "Admiral."

"Commander, the procedure has worked. The core is stabilizing and returning to its original state. We're moving on to Jonal. Please follow."

"Aye, Admiral. Helm, match speed and heading. Engage."

The blaze on the surface of the planet began subsiding, and though the atmosphere was still gray, it brought something that the Tomcat's crew needed: hope.


	5. From Within, chapter 4

Now he was really mad: not only had he been abducted, held against his will, and forced to watch the destruction of a planet, but this was the second time this trip he'd been knocked out and awakened somewhere strange. Thankfully he no longer felt the effects of Suundel artificial gravity (as advanced as their technology was, their artificial gravity was almost nauseating, as he had discovered in the brig), so he guessed he was no longer on the Suundel ship. Was he on a planet? If so, which?

The room he was in was no bigger than a brig on the Tomcat, which meant it was barely big enough for three people. The Captain was thankful that there were only two in there with him, one of whom, to his surprise and joy, was Catherine, who was still sleeping on the floor beside him; the other person was a man he didn't recognize. He thought he might have seen his face among the prisoners on the ship, but he couldn't be sure. He reached over and gave Catherine a gentle shove, which made her groggily rise to a sitting position and look blankly around the room. "Where am I?" Her voice was coarse from the dry, hot air around them.

"Catherine, I don't know where we are, but I think we're off the Suundel ship. How do you feel?"

She groaned. "Like carp."

"Like carp? Don't you mean crap?"

"No, I mean carp."

"That sounds like something Lynn would say."

"Who? Oh, Dr. Yerian? Yeah, it must have rubbed off on me when I was aboard the Tomcat. I didn't see her much, but she's quite infectious anyway."

"I'll give her that. Catherine, do you recognize this man?" He gestured to the other prisoner.

"Yeah, that's Ensign Jorge Ramos. He was with us in the hangar."

"Good. Let's wake him up." The Captain reached over and shook the man's shoulder, which made him open his eyes. He slowly rose to a sitting position, and, like Shawn and Catherine, was still groggy from whatever put them to sleep in the first place.

"Where—? Who—? I can barely see anything," he said after rubbing his eyes.

The Captain said, "We don't actually know where we are, Ensign, but we want to figure that out. All we know is that we're probably not on the Suundel ship anymore."

"Oh, Captain, I didn't realize that was you. Hello, Catherine. Captain, I'm Ensign Jorge Ramos."

"Catherine introduced us while you were sleeping. Ensign Ramos, the first order of business is to figure out exactly where we are, and the second is to get out, if possible. Let's get to work."

"Aye, Captain." Jorge stood up and looked out the small window in the rounded metal door of their cell. "Captain, come look at this."

The Captain stood and looked out the window with him. The world around them was sun-drenched, and there were Suundel guards everywhere, marching between structures that were obviously of Suundel design. He knew they had to be in a military complex. In the distance, he could see a large spire stretching to the sky, and around it was a sprawling city. He knew immediately he was on the Suundel homeworld. "Ensign, we're on Saanth."

"Saanth, Captain?"

"My linguistics specialist on the Tomcat broke the language barrier between the races, and I had the pleasure of reading some of his initial translations of their databanks."

"And that would have been one of the first things they had him translate," Catherine added. "Makes sense."

"But what doesn't make sense is why we're here. Why on earth would the Suundel bring anyone to their homeworld? Of what strategic advantage could it be?"

"Speculation, Captain," Jorge added. "Perhaps the Suundel ships do not carry the proper interrogation facilities. If they are an assassin race, it makes sense that they would gather information before their assassination attempt."

"But they've had five years to gather information. That's how long we've been in contact."

"Perhaps, Shawn, the years of contact have not been fruitful," Catherine said.

"When the Tomcat intercepted the rogue Suundel ship, they shared more information with us in seven days than we have collected on any other race in seven years—and we couldn't even communicate! I have absolutely no reason to believe five years of contact were unfruitful."

Catherine retorted, "I read the records, too. Nowhere in there did it say we had any contact other than minor skirmishes, which were mostly the result of unprovoked attacks by the Suundel. Any contact longer than that was ruined by the inexperienced captains of non-Starfleet vessels. It is very likely that those five years were wasted, and it's probably due in large part to this militant rogue sect that has taken over Saanth."

"You're probably right, Catherine, but there's no use in arguing about it. For now, let's just search for a way out of here. If we can escape, then we might avert whatever fate they have in store for us, and there's probably a transport around here we can commandeer."

The Captain was about to get his chance, for marching toward their cell was a squad of Suundel guards. One of them opened the door and motioned for everyone to exit the cell. Escorted by this small squad, Shawn, Catherine, and Jorge marched toward a large building in the center of the complex. "What awaits us can't be good," the Captain thought. "If they're collecting information, then it's probably by interrogation or torture. Let's hope there's an obvious route of escape."

But whatever awaited them, they marched steadily toward it . . . at gunpoint.

* * *

"It's all over, Commander. The last planet has been stabilized." Admiral Uhrlaub's face was displayed on the viewscreen in front of Commander Crowe.

"Admiral, that's great news, but I can't bring myself to smile," said Chuck.

"I know, Chuck. Captain Thornburg's foolhardy rush to save Catherine was . . . was . . . "

"Probably his end. Is there any chance at all he made it off the planet?"

"We couldn't get a lock on him before we had to leave. It's like he wasn't even there. His communicator signal was gone before the outpost even crumbled."

"Then I have to believe he's still alive. There couldn't have been enough interference generated by the planet to completely block out his signal. Not while he was inside a Federation outpost."

"That's probably true, but it's good not to get your hopes up too much. We'll scan the area one last time. The planet didn't explode, it simply fell apart, so at the very least you should be able to retrieve your shuttle. But the mission at hand is to return the survivors and the Suundel officers to Starbase 718. We can't do anything else in this sector."

"Aye, Admiral. Helm, set course for the last known position of Aurora Center. Warp 2. Engage."

The Tomcat slipped into warp, followed closely by the December. When they reached Aurora Center, which now looked like a clump of misshapen asteroids, the Tomcat found its shuttle, which had simply floated off the planet's surface when it lost gravity, and transported it into the shuttlebay. After a full sensor sweep of the area, both ships slipped back into warp and left the dead world.

Chuck knew in his heart of hearts that the Captain was still alive, but there was nothing he could do. He had always wanted to become the captain of the Tomcat, but not like this. There was just something not right about it, like the position didn't want him yet; but whatever the case, he decided he would make the best of it, and carry out his duty to the best of his ability.


	6. From Within, chapter 5

None of them knew quite what to expect next, but by this point they had all figured out they were going to be interrogated. They were each held by a restraining field to a very crude chair of Suundel design, and the room they were in reminded the Captain of an interrogation room from one of his detective holonovels: dark, cold, unkempt, a single light hanging from the ceiling. On each side of the only door stood two enormous Suundel guards, clothed in gray, almost making them blend in with the walls; they stared at the opposite wall like unblinking robots, not responding to any complaints or taunts from the three prisoners. "Hey, you, with the big stick," the Captain would say, "can you come over here and release these restraining fields? Huh? Be a pal?" And yet they wouldn't bat an eye. When the door finally opened, however, they both jumped into defensive postures until one of the Suundel officers entering the room said something tersely, and they responded by leaving the room and shutting the door behind them.

The Captain spoke up, hoping at some point something might get through. "So which one of you ugly guys is going to interrogate me? Can't any of you understand me? I'm getting a little tired of this and I'd like to get out of here and back to my ship. When will I be released?"

At first, no one could believe what they were hearing, and they looked around as much as the restraining fields would let them to see who else was in the room; when the finally realized who was speaking, all three of their jaws dropped simultaneously, for one of the officers had said, in English, "You are as ugly to us as we must be to you, Captain. I will have the pleasure of interrogating you, and there are no plans to return you to your ship."

"Oh, so you do speak English," said the Captain sardonically. He turned to Jorge. "If only we'd known that earlier." He turned back to the officer. "What's your name and how did you learn English?"

"You, Captain Shawn Thornburg of the Federation Starship Tomcat, are not in a position to ask questions. You will learn my name in due time, but until then, you will only be answering questions."

"What if I don't want to answer them?"

The officer simply smiled and motioned to a white-clad guard who was carrying something like a briefcase, which he promptly opened. The officer reached into the case and withdrew a tool that looked like a corkscrew, but with a number of technological devices attached to it. He approached Catherine's chair and slowly held the device up to her neck. "Then, my dear Captain, your Catherine will not be in the best of sorts."

"Touch one hair on her head and I'll—"

"What, Captain? Break free from that restraining field and rip my head off? I hold the rank of Grand Master Assassin, which means I can kill you in 20 different ways with just one hand, and subdue you in just as many ways with the touch of a finger. It would be pointless."

"What makes you think you know anything about human anatomy, let alone enough to do all that?"

"You underestimate me, Captain. You will answer my questions or she will die slowly," he threatened as he walked away.

The Captain looked over at Catherine, who was holding a brave face despite the threat of death. Jorge was looking frightened, but keeping his composure. The Captain decided to keep quiet until the Suundel officer spoke. At the very least, he could deny the interrogator the pleasure of seeing his victims squirm.

"Very good, Captain. Let's begin. Where are the defectors?"

The Captain looked at him blankly and thought, "Defectors? Klaan and his fellow officers are escapees, not defectors. Could he mean someone else?"

"Where are the defectors?" he asked in a slightly raised tone.

"I do not know of whom you speak."

"Klaanlwidmic and his cohorts!" he yelled.

"I don't know where they are. The last contact I had with them was when we intercepted them in the Aurora system," he lied. He knew exactly where they must have been at that moment, but it was entirely possible they weren't on the December anymore.

"Do not lie to me. Where are they?" He played with the torture device while he spoke, which unsettled the Captain.

"I'm serious. I don't know."

The officer darted over to Catherine and touched the torture device to her throat, coaxing a small gasp from her mouth. "I've been more than fair with my question, Captain. It's only fair that you return the favor." He pushed a button on the side of the device and the Captain heard it powering up, ready to unleash whatever terror it was designed for. Shawn glanced over at Jorge, whose eyes were wide with helplessness, and just as he was about to yell out "Okay, I'll tell you!" the door burst open and the sound of alarms and yelling guards poured in from the hallway, forcing the interrogator to stop his nefarious activity and shift his attention.

A young guard darted into the room and yelled something to the officers, who responded by vacating the room promptly. Only the Grand Master of Assassins remained, device in hand. He walked slowly to the door, then turned and snickered, "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." He pulled the door shut behind him, completely blocking out the alarms and leaving the three prisoners in complete silence.

Jorge spoke first. "What just happened?"

"A miracle, it would seem. Let's just try to get free now. We only have a small window of opportunity, and we can't waste it," ordered the Captain.

"Just how exactly are we going to get free of restraining fields, Shawn?" questioned Catherine, cynically.

"I have no idea. Suggestions?"

Before anyone could respond, however, the door opened, letting in all of the alarms and yells; they all expected to see the interrogator returning with his device, ready to finish what he was about to start, but instead of the interrogator, in walked the young guard who had burst in earlier. He didn't say anything, but ran over to the wall and punched a code into the control box for the restraining field. Suddenly they were all able to move freely, and when the guard motioned for them to follow, they obliged happily. Once they were in the hallway, they saw another guard standing outside the door, gun in attack position; he didn't fire, but simply joined their ranks, aiming his gun at Shawn's back. "I see what they're doing," thought Shawn, "They're making it look like some kind of prisoner transport so no one else gets suspicious, even in the confusion. But who are they?"

They ran steadily through the hallways until they reached a small door at the end of a dark corridor. The lead guard opened the door and darted through, followed closely by his four followers, and immediately everyone took off in a flat-out sprint down a shallow hill into the open door of a waiting jeep-like hover transport.

In one swift operation, they were all out of the large building and on their way through the military complex, huddled in a covered storage container in the back of the transport. Over the next few miles, the ride became extremely uncomfortable, as all three escapees had to curl up into a fetal position to fit into the container. Shawn wanted to say something, but he didn't want to jeopardize their escape. He figured the passengers of the vehicle would open the case when it was safe, and just as he was reaching his most uncomfortable, that's exactly what happened. With a sigh of relief, the three escapees sat up in the back of the vehicle and looked out the front window, for it was the only one. Despite the rough terrain that appeared before them, their ride continued to be smooth, thanks to the anti-grav units keeping the vehicle afloat. Captain Thornburg wanted to see who else could speak English. "Thank you for rescuing us."

The Suundel who opened the case simply stared at them. Captain Thornburg figured no one understood him. "Great," he thought, "back to the communication barrier."

Catherine asked, "What do we do now, Shawn? I don't even understand what's going on right now."

"We wait, dear. Either we need to learn the Suundel language really fast, or hope they have someone else who can speak English. I want some answers, but our first priority is getting off of this planet and taking the rest of the prisoners with us, however we do that. We're obviously going to the hideout or headquarters of whatever group staged this escape."

Jorge said, "What I want to know, Captain, is how in the world that interrogator could speak English. Of all the people in all the places in the galaxy, you know? There's absolutely no way he should have been able to speak English. There's just no way."

"You're right, Ensign. It's a mystery I mean to solve. I—" But he was cut off by yells from the Suundel in the vehicle.

Out of the front window he could see a large cave opening flanked on each side by groups of Suundel guards, but no one in the vehicle seemed to have any worries. The driver simply made a gesture out of the window, and the guards made the same gesture in return. Once they entered the cave opening, the vehicle's lights came on, and all anyone could see was the little bit of wall and floor they lit in front of them. They continued like this for about ten minutes, but then, all at once, they were in an enormous, well-lit cavern. The vehicle stopped and the passengers left, bidding the three humans to come with them; they obliged quickly, and found themselves standing in front of a small alien-looking hut right by the entrance. As they looked around the cavern, they saw that some parts of the rock walls were formed naturally, but others had been chiseled away hastily, with no concern for aesthetics. This shelter had obviously been carved in a hurry. The entire cavern probably measured about 100 meters high and 200 meters across, making it extremely spacious. But before they could look any more, the three Suundel guards grabbed the arms of each of the humans and led them into the hut.

The inside of the hut looked like a large version of the interrogation room they had all just come from, but there were ten cot-like beds spread out along the wall and a number of crates piled in one corner. There was only one window, and it was on the door. "This must be a temporary shelter for just such an occasion," Shawn thought. Two of the Suundel guards left the hut, but the third walked over to the supplies in the corner and opened one of the crates. Amazingly, he pulled out a Starfleet ration and showed it to the humans. Shawn, Catherine, and Jorge ran over to the crates and grabbed a ration each. "Where did you get these?" Shawn asked, not expecting an answer. The Suundel simply dropped the ration he had picked up and headed for the door, closing it behind him. The three escapees simply stood over the crates, eating their rations, extremely thankful for the first food they'd had since the beginning of this entire ordeal.

The Captain's only thought was of the other prisoners still in the military installation. Once that interrogator realized he was missing three prisoners, he would surely begin torturing the rest of the prisoners without hesitation. He was still without a clue about all of these events, but he had a feeling that soon—very soon—he would know the whole story.


	7. From Within, chapter 6

It only took one ration to fill up each person, and once they were full, they laid on three of the cots. None of them wanted to sleep (for they had been doing too much of that lately), so they began talking.

"What in the world is going on?" Jorge griped. "One minute I'm recalibrating the long-range sensors on the outpost, the next I'm running for my life trying to get off a dying planet, probably destroyed by an enemy we didn't even know was there. Then, I'm carted through space against my will, taken to a prison on an alien planet, interrogated by one of its inhabitants—who just HAPPENS to speak perfect English—and now I'm here, on some cot in some hut in some cave that houses some rebel faction. And they just HAPPEN to have Starfleet rations."

"It's confusing, Jorge, I know," said the Captain, "but we just need to wait it out. I have a sneaky suspicion the answers are just around the corner."

And they were. As soon as he said that, the door swung open and in walked a group of Suundel dressed in browns and dark reds, and walking with them, dressed in a brightly colored robe, was a man—a human man. But when the Captain looked closely at his eyes, he saw the trademark blackness of Betazoid eyes. At the very least, here was someone who could understand them. "But what's a Betazoid man . . . never mind, I'm not asking any more of those questions right now," he thought.

The Betazoid sat down on the cot next to the Captain, and began to address all three humans. "I am Tam Elbrun. I am a Betazoid."

Jorge jumped up in surprise. "I've read about you! You were on the Enterprise-D when it made first contact with that living spaceship . . . Gomtuu!"

"Yes. Unfortunately Gomtuu was destroyed almost a year ago when we wandered into Suundel space. I can still hear his cries in my head . . . " Tam began staring wide-eyed at the floor, then shook his head when he remembered what he was doing. "At any rate, these rebels rescued me from the prisons and I was able to understand their thoughts. Since then, I've been their translator."

"And you're here to tell us what's going on," said the Captain.

"Yes, Captain. A rogue sect has overthrown the government on Saanth."

"Yes, we got that part already."

"Okay, but what you didn't get is that the Suundel are a very introverted people, and this whole thing would never have happened if an outside force had not instigated it."

"You're saying there's a non-Suundel force behind all of this? Another race? A person?"

"I don't know exactly, Captain, but I do know that there are many thoughts from the leadership of the rogue sect that aren't Suundel. That's all I can ever get."

"Why were we abducted and brought here?"

"I'm not entirely sure about the reasoning behind it, but the most reasonable conclusion given the thoughts I've heard is that you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. There's no clear reason that any of you were kidnapped, but the general feeling I get is revenge."

"From that alien force?"

"It seems that way, Captain. For some reason the Suundel have a thought structure that . . . "blurs" telepathically, and it's only by being in close proximity to one that I can pick out thoughts. The thoughts of the alien force are simply blocked most of the time. Human thoughts, however, gush forward with no restraint, and I'm hearing the thoughts of many more humans than the prisoners."

"So others must have been kidnapped before," said Jorge.

"No, these are not coming from the planet. I have good reason to believe there's at least one Federation vessel in orbit. Probably more."

The Captain's heart jumped. "But how could they be in orbit when this planet is under such heavy guard?" he thought. He had to find out. "Can you contact any of them, Tam?"

"I cannot, Captain. There are none among them who can hear me."

"Then we need to retrieve our gear from the prison. That's our first priority."

Tam turned to one of the Suundel with him and stared into his eyes, then turned back to the Captain. "He tells me that they have one of your communicator pins."

"With that, I can contact any Federation ships in orbit! Ask him if I can have it."

Tam turned back to the Suundel, who then reached into his pocket and produced a communicator pin.

"Oh, Tam, I want to ask you: do you know where the Starfleet rations came from? And that communicator pin?"

Tam sighed and looked down. "As far as I know they were stolen from the Federation ships the rogue sect encountered. They have entire stores of them on their planetary bases. These rebels managed to steal a few over time, which is what you were just eating."

"Why were the planets attacked in the first place?"

"We think it was done as a diversion. One of the officers who defected said that only five Suundel battlecruisers have the planetary weapon, and that the real goal is Earth."

"Earth? We have to get out of here. Hand me the communicator please." Shawn held out his hand and Tam placed the delta-shaped pin in his palm. Shawn tapped it gently. "Attention. Any Federation vessels who can hear me, please respond." He waited. "If you can hear me, I am Captain Shawn Thornburg of the Federation Starship Tomcat."

Immediately a voice sounded over the communicator. "Captain Thornburg, how many to beam up?"

It took a second for it to sink in, but when the Captain realized someone had just asked him a question, he answered, "Oh, um," he stammered. He looked at Tam again. "Are you coming with us?"

"I'm staying down here. I still can't handle the constant chatter of other minds. The Suundel are comforting because it's all a blur."

"Three to beam up. Thank you, Tam. We'll be in touch." Shawn, Catherine, and Jorge stood up and walked away from the rest of the group, then disappeared in a blue light, leaving Tam and the Suundel guards alone in the hut.

* * *

"Did we get them?" said a man clothed in an all black Starfleet-looking uniform with a red collar.

"There's some interference, but they're coming through now, sir." A gruff man responded to the question. He stood at the controls in a transporter room. As he spoke, three figures materialized on the transporter pad in front of him.

The man with the red collar said, "Welcome, Captain. I am Commander Jason Konrad. Please follow me." He walked toward the door of the transporter room.

Shawn looked at his companions and said, "Well, I suppose we better follow him." They stepped off of the transporter pad, staring hard at the almost alien interiors of the ship, and the dark colors that covered them. They followed the Commander through the dark hallways toward a turbolift. Every LCARS panel they passed was dark blue, and many of them detailed the weapons systems of this ship. One of them had a picture of the ship, and Shawn noticed that it had three nacelles and a completely unconventional, alien-influenced design. He knew they were on a war ship. The U.S.S. Enchanter. Diablo class. Another panel displayed a triangular crest with one word written inside of it: Epsilon.

When they stepped off the turbolift, they were on the bridge, which was almost completely dark except for the light of the viewscreen; one man stood up and said in a grave tone, "Welcome to the U.S.S. Enchanter, Captain. I am Captain Mark Gerding, and I see you've already met my Number One. Excuse the lights. We're running in low-power mode."

"Thank you, Captain." Shawn looked at the viewscreen. Directly off the port bow—not 500 meters away—was a menacing ship, which Shawn guessed was of Suundel design. Behind the ship was a planet, mostly green, with patches of blue here and there. Shawn knew in an instant they were still in orbit of Saanth. He looked around the bridge of the Enchanter, and realized there was no one except Captain Gerding and Commander Konrad operating the vessel. "Captain, I have a slew of questions for you."

"You may ask, Captain, but you may not get an answer to some," warned Mark.

"Are you out here alone? Are you cloaked? How long have you been out here? Do you know about the rest of the prisoners on the planet, and how are we going to rescue them? Why were we brought—"

"Hold on, Captain. I'll try to answer these first. No, we're not out here alone, and in this situation I'm allowed to divulge who else is here. There are four ships total in orbit of Saanth, and we're each shadowing a Suundel battlecruiser—and yes, we're cloaked: the U.S.S. Alton, under the command of Captain Cal Martinez, the U.S.S. Sol, under Captain Algar DeHoll, and the U.S.S. Indiana, under Captain Ivan Wilson. We've been out here for about three days. Yes, we know about the rest of the prisoners on the planet, and we've been formulating a plan to rescue them."

"Why did the Suundel bring us here in the first place? How are you cloaked when it's illegal by Federation law? What is Epsilon? What is the alien force controlling the rogue sect?"

"You're just full of questions."

"I said I had a slew."

"I don't know why the Suundel brought you here. I can't divulge information about our cloaking device, except that we have it. Neither can I divulge information about Epsilon beyond the fact that we don't exist and you never saw us. I don't know anything about the alien force controlling the rogue—"

"You don't exist? What do you mean you don't exist?"

"Epsilon is not an officially recognized body. That's all you need to know." He sighed. "By being on this ship, you are bound to secrecy. If you do not agree to this, well . . ."

Commander Konrad moved from behind his workstation and stared gravely at Captain Thornburg, one hand on his weapon.

"Fine. We all agree. It's not like we have much of a choice. But my ship probably thinks I'm dead. Can we send a message to them?"

"Captain, any long-distance transmission would certainly be intercepted by the Suundel and they would find our location quickly. Besides, we're deep in the Gamma Quadrant; any subspace message we sent would take about six years to reach the Federation border. Our ship travels faster than that at transwarp, so it would be better to deliver the message yourself."

"You have transwarp, too?"

"Captain, I don't mean to be rude, but we're about ready to get the remaining prisoners and get out of here. We've installed all of the countermeasures we came to install, so now is the time to act."

"Countermeasures? Nevermind. I don't want to know any more. Well, what's the plan? Why can't we just beam them out of there?"

"There's a jamming field around the military base. We'll need a special comm badge with a booster signal, to beam them out successfully. Commander Konrad will take it to them and we'll beam them and a few Suundel out as prisoners for interrogation later."

"You're going to take prisoners?"

"Do you have a question for every single thing I say?"

"I do when the things you say are so spectacular. Since everything else you do is illegal, I'll ignore the fact that taking prisoners is inhuman, but how is Commander Konrad going to get into the base without being gunned down by the hundreds of Suundel officers roaming the base? Do you have personal cloaking devices, too?"

Captain Gerding waved to Jason, who approached the Captains, but said, "Captain, are you sure it's okay to reveal this much to norms?" Captain Gerding just stared at Jason, who then slowly pressed a button on a device on his belt. He immediately disappeared.

"Oh, so the answer is yes," said Captain Thornburg, incredulous.

When Commander Konrad reappeared, he tapped another button and nodded to Captain Gerding. Mark withdrew his weapon and fired right at Jason, causing Shawn, Catherine, and Jorge to jump to their feet; but the beam was simply absorbed by a force field around Jason that looked just like the personal force fields the Borg used in their first encounters with the Federation.

Shawn's mouth dropped open. "I can't believe I'm seeing this. Everything ideal the Federation has stood upon for two centuries is being ignored in favor of tactical advantage! How many different species have you stolen technology from? I see Borg and Romulan so far. Do you have Breen? Ferengi? Dominion? I mean, you've threatened to kill us if we talk about your existence. How can you be—"

Commander Konrad approached Captain Thornburg quickly and growled, "Captain, this line of questioning is unacceptable."

"None of this is useful right now," said Mark. "Jason, just get to the transporter room and I'll give the word."

"Aye, Captain," he conceded, bowing. He left the bridge, and as soon as he did, Captain Gerding punched a few buttons on his chair's command console. Three faces popped up on the viewscreen.

"Cal, Algar, Ivan. It's time," said Mark. The three faces nodded and the viewscreen switched back to the battlecruiser and the planet. The Enchanter began moving away from the Suundel battlecruiser and approaching the planet, almost entering its atmosphere. Mark called over the comm system, "Commander Konrad, we're in position." Then they waited. Half an hour went by, and in that time Captain Gerding and Captain Thornburg had as much conversation as their positions would allow, but Shawn managed to gather that Mark was Zatien, a race whose empire lay near the Typhon Expanse, and that he really didn't want to be as secretive as he had to be. In that half an hour, Shawn and Mark gained enormous respect for each other. But it was soon over, and Shawn, Catherine, and Jorge were led to the transporter room by Commander Konrad, who had returned from the rescue unscathed. After they greeted everyone who was beamed aboard, and after the two Suundel guards (whom Jason managed to capture during the rescue) were taken to the brig, Shawn returned to the bridge and took a seat. Soon, the stars disappeared into a blue tunnel, and he knew they were travelling at transwarp. They were on their way home.


	8. From Within, chapter 7

Commander Crowe sat in Ten Forward, staring sadly at the bottom of his empty glass, lost in thought. Admiral Uhrlaub sat across from him holding a glass half full of a red liquid. "Chuck, you really shouldn't try to drown your sorrows in synthehol. Have some Risan Fielbero juice instead. It's great for the head."

"Rudy, Credosian Merlot, synthesized or not, is the only thing that helps me think. You know that."

"Chuck, like it or not, you're pregnant, and unless that baby has its own food supply in there or sneaks out at night to forage, it's drinking the same things you are. Its immune system certainly isn't ready for anything as strong as Credosian Merlot, and even synthehol can be dangerous to an immune system that weak. As a friend I'm asking you to stop now."

"Why didn't you ask me to stop before I drank it?"

"Because you drank it before I even arrived! Chester, I know you're still convinced Shawn's alive, and I'm inclined to believe you, but we can't concentrate on it now. We need to decide what we're going to do next."

Chester kept staring at the bottom of his glass.

"Alright, Chuck," said the Admiral as he stood up. "I'm going back to my ship, and when you're ready to accept facts and take command—"

"This isn't about taking command, Rudy. I've already done that. I have no problem. I'm just sorting through everything I know about the situation. I'm strategizing."

"Okay. When you're done strategizing, decide whether or not you want to command the Tomcat. Your behavior is very unbecoming of a Starfleet officer."

"You're right, Rudy. I think I'm having those mood swings Lynn warned me about. Apparently Credosian males experience them within the first month of pregnancy."

At that very moment Chuck's communicator pin sounded. "Commander Crowe." It was Jeff's voice.

"Go ahead."

"A ship has just decloaked off the port bow."

"Decloaked? Is it Romulan?"

"No, Commander. It looks like nothing I've ever seen before. It appears to be a Starfleet vessel."

Chuck and Rudy looked at each other in surprise. "I'm on my way. Try to hail it." He darted out of the lounge as the Admiral was transported directly to his own bridge.

* * *

"Hail them, Jason." Captain Gerding sat casually in his command chair on the Enchanter.

"Is this normal operating procedure for such a secretive group? Why are you going to let them know you exist?" Captain Thornburg sat in one of the chairs next to Mark.

"Actually, Shawn, normal operating procedure is either to wipe your memory or kill you, depending on the situation. Epsilon cannot afford to be exposed."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm exposing Epsilon."

"You just said—"

"Precisely." At that moment the viewscreen displayed the faces of Commander Crowe and Admiral Uhrlaub. Mark stood and addressed them. "I am Captain Mark Gerding of the U.S.S. Enchanter. I believe I've found something that belongs to you." He motioned to Shawn, who then stood beside him.

"Captain! You're alive!" said Chuck. Then he regained his composure and addressed Mark. "I've never heard of any such ship in the Federation."

"And you've probably never heard of the rest of my group, either." He motioned to Commander Konrad, who mumbled something about norms and reluctantly tapped some keys on his workstation.

Behind Commander Crowe, Jeff exclaimed, "Commander, three more ships just decloaked!"

"I will be happy to join you on your ship and explain everything," said Mark.

"That will be very good, Captain," said the Admiral. "Meet us on board the Tomcat at 1630 hours."

"Agreed. Gerding out."

Shawn was now confused even more than before, but it seemed like everything would be explained very shortly.

* * *

1630 hours. The Tomcat's briefing room.

Captain Thornburg was finally back on his ship, and sitting at the head of the briefing table. To his right were Commander Crowe, Admiral Uhrlaub, Lieutenant Commander Jeffrey Debbs, Lieutenant Commander Self, Doctor Lynn Yerian, and Lieutenant Commander Jordan Johnson. To his left were Captain Mark Gerding, Captain Algar DeHoll, Captain Ivan Wilson, and Captain Cal Martinez.

Captain Gerding spoke first. "How many of you know of Section 31?"

Admiral Uhrlaub replied, "I heard about Section 31 from Dr. Julian Bashir on Deep Space 9. They're supposed to be Starfleet's 'black ops' group." He chuckled.

Self also chimed in. "I had a run-in with them in 2360 when I first joined Starfleet. They tried to recruit me."

"Forget everything you think you know about Section 31. It's a ruse."

"A ruse?" asked Self. "Then who tried to recruit me?"

"Section 31, but that's only become the name on the surface," continued Mark. "It collectively describes all five divisions, but the name itself doubles as a mask to lead any investigators on a wild goose chase. The real Section 31 is the five divisions who have maintained complete secrecy since the early 23rd century."

The rest of the group looked confused, so Captain DeHoll spoke up. "Section 31 has been around since long before Starfleet and the Federation. We were expanded from several similar groups that had been operating since before first contact with the Vulcans. We've been operating in the background, using illegal technology to ensure the safety of Earth, and whatever countries we served before that. Every person who has joined Section 31 has vowed to live as a shadow, giving up their public lives and loved ones to become officially non-existent. We have violated the Prime Directive, countless ethical codes, and even ignored our own moral characters, all in the name of safety and advantage."

Captain Wilson chimed in. "Toward the end of the 22nd century, Section 31's secrecy was beginning to be threatened, so some time in the early-to-mid 23rd century, they split into five sub-groups. For ambiguity, they named themselves with the first five letters of the Greek alphabet. Alpha took over public relations, information control, recruiting, and command of the other four; they were always to refer to it as Section 31 so the existence of the five groups would remain secret. Beta became dedicated to developing weapons and defenses, and stealing or copying those technologies from other sources. Gamma focused on all other technologies, including communication and computing. Delta focused on actual ship construction, incorporating all other technologies into a cohesive whole."

"Which brings us to Epsilon," said Jordan Johnson. "You must have focused on the use of these technologies."

"Precisely," answered Captain Cal Martinez. "We're the executors, the operators. We're the ones who get our hands dirty. We carry out the missions and train the new recruits for a life within Section 31."

"But why are you telling us this and how does it relate to our current situation?" asked Jeffrey Debbs.

Mark replied, "Those two are related, actually. We're telling you because we're simply tired of the wretched beast Section 31 has become."

"And we're in our current situation because of the beast's fear of dying," added Cal.

Mark continued, "You see, Section 31 is only called out when the Federation is truly in danger, like during the Dominion War, or the Earth-Romulan Wars. So whenever there's talk of peace, when the Federation's true goal is about to be realized, Section 31 has taken to . . . manufacturing conflicts."

"That is not logical," stated Jordan. "Peace is the Federation's true goal, and since Section 31 was created to assist in assuring that goal, however contradictory its existence is to that goal—"

"I know where you're going, but you can't base the actions of Section 31 on logic," interrupted Mark. "We've managed to enlist very few Vulcans because of that reason. The Admirals in charge of Section 31 are just short of insane."

"And just who would these Admirals be? And what conflicts have they manufactured?" asked Admiral Uhrlaub.

Captain DeHoll replied, "Arron Cress, Cynthia Cadwell, Sadie Horton, Lane Ervin, Saul Lee, Judas Morris, to name a few. All Admirals."

Admiral Uhrlaub was shocked at the abruptness of the reply, but said, "I know some of those people. I went through the academy with Arron Cress and I've worked with Cynthia and Sadie at length. I don't recognize the other three, though."

"I do," said Shawn. "They were the three 'civilians' I encountered in the brig of the Suundel ship. They claimed to be privately contracted researchers doing work on Aurora Center."

"Actually, Captain Thornburg," said Captain Martinez, "these men were never on the planet. They had been in the brig since before the battlecruisers attacked the planets."

Shawn was visibly curious.

"I'll explain in just a moment," said Mark.

Admiral Uhrlaub was incredulous. "How are we to believe you're telling the truth? What's to keep me from throwing all of you in the brig to await a court martial?"

Captain DeHoll jumped from his seat. "You've seen our ships. You see our uniforms." He activated his personal cloaking device. "Now you can't see me." All of the people at the table were visibly startled except Shawn and the other Epsilon captains. Algar deactivated the device. "What more proof do you need? We're naming names, we're putting our very lives in danger just by being here with you, and all you can do is doubt us?"

Mark moved over to Algar and gently said, "It's okay, Al. Calm down. You know how much I appreciate your sacrifice in all of this."

Algar calmed down and took his seat again. Mark faced the rest of the table. "I'll continue. Easily one of the most notable conflicts that Section 31 manufactured was in 2293. Praxis exploded and the Klingon empire was ready to make peace, which would have meant a very long dry spell for Section 31. Admiral Cartwright was one of the leaders at that time, and Lieutenant Valeris was a member of Alpha. Though their attempt to disrupt the peace process was unsuccessful, it was only due to them that the attempt was even made. And over the years those actions have taken their toll on the stability of the Federation's relationship with the Klingon Empire."

"But it doesn't matter what we've done in the past," interrupted Captain Wilson. "It only matters that Section 31—and Epsilon especially—have manufactured the Suundel crisis on a larger scale than ever before. We've actually taken an introverted race and forced them to form an offensive against the Federation, just so we'd feel useful. That is the main reason we're here right now. This is too terrible, even for our ethics. We four Captains have decided to risk everything to see that Epsilon and Section 31 don't jeopardize yet another chance for peace."

Shawn exclaimed, "So that's why the Suundel interrogator spoke perfect English! You taught him! And we must have been taken to Saanth as a reason for Section 31 to mount a rescue mission."

"Exactly." Mark confirmed Shawn's assumption. "But we interrupted the 'rescue' mission. At this very moment, the members of Epsilon who were chosen for the mission are probably trying to figure out where the prisoners are, and why Admirals Lee, Ervin, and Morris are still there. They were supposed to act as the key figures in the rescue mission to convince all of the prisoners that Section 31 was there to help them. They were an advertisement of sorts. And the Suundel guards we took prisoner were actually defectors to our cause. They wanted out from under the influence of Alpha and they actually helped Commander Konrad during his rescue."

"There's one last thing, Mark," said Shawn. "When I was on Saanth, Tam Elbrun told me that he found out the real target is Earth. Is that true?"

"Yes and no," he replied. "The five Suundel planet-killers are headed for Earth right now, but they're going slowly because they're scheduled to be intercepted and engaged, and possibly destroyed. What we're going to do—"

"Speaking of the planet-killers, wasn't it rather convenient that Klaan and his fellow officers showed up just when they did?" Self's question caused almost every eyebrow in the room to rise.

Mark slapped his head. "How could I have overlooked that! Klaanlwidmic and his crew were sent here to ensure that the planets in the Aurora system were not actually destroyed. They're under the control of Alpha. Where are they now?" Shawn and Chester looked at each other. With a tone of disappointment, Mark said, "Don't tell me they're still on the ship."

"They're on the December," replied Chester. "Their scout ship's here in the Tomcat's shuttlebay."

At that very moment, Admiral Uhrlaub's communicator pin chimed. "Admiral! Admiral!" He immediately recognized Wade Burgan's voice. "Klaan . . . took me by surprise . . . transporting to . . . Tomcat's shuttlebay."

Mark reacted immediately. "Captain Thornburg, raise your shields!"

"Thornburg to bridge. Raise shields immediately."

Ensign Rory Preston's voice replied, "Captain, shields are up, but there seems to be an unscheduled shuttle launch."

"Rory, lock onto that ship with a tractor beam."

"I can't get a lock, Captain. It's . . . it's already gone into warp."

"What are they going to do, Mark?" Shawn sounded aggravated.

"They're going to relate our position, identities, and possible intentions. Ivan, take the Indiana and stop them. The rest of us need to get back to our ships and intercept the planet-killers before the rest of Epsilon does. We need them on our side if we're going to stand a chance against the rest of Epsilon."

Admiral Uhrlaub beamed directly back to the December, Captains Gerding, DeHoll, Wilson, and Martinez beamed directly back to their ships, and everyone else made their way to the Tomcat's bridge. The Enchanter, Alton, and Sol were going to speed ahead and inform the Suundel ships of the situation, while the Tomcat and December contacted anyone within range and requested assistance.

They were on their way to battle, and for the first time since she had been built, the Tomcat would get a chance to show her prowess. But it wasn't going to be a battle of ships or sides, but of ideologies and necessities; a battle of wills; a battle of morals; a battle for honor. A battle for peace.


	9. From Within, chapter 8

"Jeff," said Shawn, "are there any ships within range?"

"Affirmative, Captain. There are nine Starfleet vessels within a ten-minute range of the specified coordinates. The next nearest vessel would take an hour to arrive."

"Hail one of them, Jeff."

A few seconds later the face of a Vulcan appeared on the viewscreen and said, "I am Captain S'klar of the U.S.S. Comanche."

"And I'm Captain Shawn Thornburg of the U.S.S. Tomcat. Captain, I need your help."

"How may I be of assistance?"

"There is a dangerous threat to Earth, and I'm about to intercept it. You're just ten minutes away from the projected coordinates. Can I enlist the aid of you and the ships with you?"

"What is the nature of the threat and why has it not been broadcast on official channels?" questioned S'klar.

"It's internal and we don't exactly know whom to trust. I'll explain later, but I need you to help now. Here's a briefing of recent events." He nodded to Jeff, who sent an information package.

"We have received the transmission, Captain. We will meet you at the coordinates. S'klar out."

At the moment S'klar disappeared from the viewscreen, Jeff said, "Captain, we're being hailed by the Enchanter."

"On screen." When Mark's face appeared, Shawn said, "We've enlisted some help, Mark."

"Good," he replied, "but I want you to know the exact specifications of our enemies. I'm going to transmit our own specifications so you have an idea of what you're up against. We have some weapons you won't be able to withstand, so don't expect to last long in this battle. I don't know how many ships Epsilon will have dispatched to intercept the Suundel, but a safe guess is at least ten. They tend toward overkill."

"I see. We'll do what we can. Thank you. I'll transmit these specifications to the nine ships we just contacted. They'll be a big help."

"Good luck, Shawn." Mark disappeared from the screen. Shawn turned to Jeff again and had him send the new information to the December and Captain S'klar, then he went to his chair and began reviewing it himself.

A few minutes later the December hailed them and Admiral Uhrlaub said, "Shawn, these are some hefty weapons. Our current defenses will be no match for this combination."

"You're telling me, Rudy. Any ideas?"

"Go find Ensign Santos. He has something to show you."

". . . acknowledged." The Admiral disappeared from the viewscreen and Shawn looked up and said, "Ensign Santos, what is your position?"

His voice came back, "I'm in deflector control, Captain. I'm finishing up the last few modifications to the deflector dish."

"Oh? How much longer will you be?"

"Just another minute. I need to finalize one last test."

"Join me on the bridge when that is accomplished."

"Aye, Captain."

Shawn turned to Chester and asked, "What is he doing? You approved it, right?"

Chuck just smiled and replied, "I think you'll like it, Shawn."

"We'll see." The Captain continued to look over the specifications, still amazed at the amount of technologies they'd stolen. Mark's ship alone incorporated Borg, Dominion, Breen, Romulan, a few Delta-quadrant species, and some illegal modifications of current Federation technology, including a phase cloaking device. After a few minutes, though, he was interrupted by Mick Santos' presence on the bridge. He stood and said, "I'm told, Mick, that you have some news for me."

"Yes, sir. I installed the basic technologies behind five new weapons. They can be deployed using current methods. Three of them are torpedo-based and the other two are deployed from the deflector dish."

"The basic technologies? Give me a summary of what these new weapons will do."

"Well, when I was at the Academy I was commended for ingenuity in the field of weapons development, you remember. The five weapons I just installed were some of my 'pet projects', and they could be implemented with little alteration to the systems most Federation vessels have. And they were the only ones I had time to implement in the short time since you gave me the initial report on the Suundel. The torpedo-based weapons simply require some moderate tweaking of the tracking systems and payload of our quantum torpedoes: one type can track anything that leaves a subspace trail; another will lock on to a certain set of emissions; and the third is simply an increase in payload. The two weapons that use the deflector dish are essentially new types of beam weapons, one of which has the capacity to phase through almost any shield by continuously adapting to shield modulations until it finds the right one. I call that one the modulation beam."

"That sounds impressive. Are these field tested?"

"All but one. The modulation beam has only been simulated."

"Well, I suppose this is as good a time to test it out as any. If it works you'll be commended again, and possibly promoted. That weapon alone could give us an advantage few other ships have."

"Oh, thank you, Captain. Hopefully they'll work," he replied with a nervous laugh. "The December is already outfitted with these weapons, and it would only take about ten minutes per modification for any other ships to apply them. A whole team would have them done in no time."

"Jeff, send the modifications to Captain Gerding and Captain S'Klar. They may be able to implement them." He sighed. "All we can do now is wait."

* * *

"They're waiting for something," thought Captain Gerding, "but I don't know what. They should have attacked already." He turned to Jason and said, "Hail Captain Martinez." When Cal's face appeared on the viewscreen, Mark said, "How are those weapon modifications coming along?"

"They're just coming online now, Mark," replied Cal, looking at his chair display.

"Good. We'll be prepared for the attack then. What do you think is taking so long? They should have sent a group to intercept the Suundel already."

"The best I can come up with is that they're trying to figure out where we are. The Suundel battlecruisers have switched from their subspace cloak to their typical cloak, so they're completely undetectable by any means we have, and since we've switched off anything that would help the rest of Epsilon detect us, we're completely hidden as well. I'm willing to bet that they'll attack the very second the Tomcat and December drop out of warp at our coordinates."

"Agreed. Our shields have been extended over the Suundel battlecruisers, so they'll be well protected when the attack comes. Do you have enough power to extend our shields over anyone else?"

"I'd say we're already stretching it too much. My shields are extended over two of the battlecruisers, and so are the Sol's. You only have to worry about one battlecruiser, though."

"Yes, we'll be able to extend our shields over one more vessel without losing effectiveness. Is the Sol ready with her weapon modifications?"

"Affirmative, and Captain Wilson reports that the Indiana has intercepted the Suundel scout ship and is applying the weapon modifications as we speak. He'll be here shortly."

"Excellent, Cal. Be ready for anything. Gerding out."

* * *

The stage was set, and everyone knew they were probably on their way to their doom.

* * *

The initial attack was swift: the Tomcat and December had coordinated their arrival times with the nine ships they enlisted, so both groups dropped from warp at the same time; ten seconds later, ten ships dropped from transwarp (five ships came from one direction, and five ships flanked from the opposite). None of them were cloaked--a show of arrogance that would eventually cost them the battle. The Tomcat fired first, unleashing a volley of the increased-payload torpedoes, all of which impacted, and all of which caused almost no damage to the enemies' shields. The Enchanter and Sol followed closely by launching a volley of transphasic torpedoes, which proved much more effective and took every shield they hit down by at least fifty percent.

The return volley was more devastating, though, as every single Epsilon ship unleashed an unknown type of torpedo at the same time. Five ships (the Uranide, Brasil, Lancer, Troia, and Apache--all part of S'klar's group) were crippled because the new torpedoes had no problem cutting right through standard Federation regenerative shields and ablative hull armor. The Enchanter, Sol, Alton, and Suundel vessels were barely affected because their shields were made to counter that type of torpedo; the December was the other vessel the Enchanter extended her shields around, so she was equally unaffected; the Comanche, Viper, Alliance, and Polar (the rest of S'klar's group) only took a couple of non-critical hits because the Enchanter, Sol, and Alton coordinated several intercept runs.

The Tomcat, however, was on the far side of the group, and was left to fend for herself. But she came out completely unscathed because of the incredible maneuverability of the Agent class, and the quick wits and nerves of steel of the most unlikely of heroes: Ensign Rory Preston. With Ensign Preston at the helm, the Tomcat maneuvered around every single torpedo that came after her, releasing countermeasures for distraction along the way. Then, immediately after those acrobatics came to an end, Captain Thornburg had Ensign Preston position the Tomcat to fire a volley of regular quantum torpedoes. The torpedoes were a distraction, however, so the Tomcat could fire its modulation beam, which impacted and broke through the shields of one of the Epsilon ships, dissolving a hole in its ablative undercoating almost immediately. Captain Thornburg then fired a volley of increased-payload torpedoes that travelled parallel to the beam and broke through the weakened shields, impacting on the bare hull underneath the ablative armor and causing a chain reaction that destroyed the ship from within. The only things left of that ship were the neutronium plates that floated away harmlessly.

About that time, the Suundel battlecruisers fired their planet-destroying weapons, which had been charging since the initial attack. Their beams unleashed punishment unequalled by any Starfleet weapon, and all five of their targets were destroyed with ease.

The rest of the battle went much the same way, with the Enchanter, Sol, and Alton weakening the shields of the remaining four Epsilon ships and everyone else firing Ensign Santos' weapons while the Suundel readied their next attack. And though the four Epsilon ships put up an amazing fight, bringing down the shields of Gerding's group, crippling the rest of S'klar's group and the Suundel ships, and landing several non-critical hits on the Tomcat and December, they were destroyed.

The victors, smoking and beaten, stood silent on the battlefield.


	10. Aftermath

9 months later . . .

Captain Thornburg made his way to sickbay in a great huff. He was followed closely by Catherine Lim, Jeffrey Debbs, Mick Santos and Rory Preston (who had both reached the rank of Lieutenant J.G.), and Rudgard Uhrlaub. They all took a break from their duties at Earth Spacedock to witness the miracle of life, which was just minutes away. In no time they were through the doors of sickbay and saw Dr. Lynn Yerian crouched in front of a curved delivery chair (Mick Santos would later remark that Lynn reminded him of a baseball catcher), with Zotia Crowe standing next to her, and the rest of the medical staff poised to assist at any moment. They were both staring at the person in the chair, who was none other than Commander Chester Crowe himself.

"How's it going? Did I miss anything?" asked Shawn, out of breath.

"No, you're just in time," replied Lynn.

"Oh good. I didn't want to miss it. I got here as quickly as I could."

Chester looked up at him and painfully said, "Oh, I'm glad you came, Shawn."

"Don't talk, Chuck. Concentrate on delivering this baby," scolded Lynn. "You might want to back up, Shawn, so there are no distractions for the mom-to-b--oh, sorry; for the dad-to-be."

"Right." Shawn rejoined the rest of his entourage, who had waited near the door. After a few minutes, he chuckled, "Lynn, I have a question. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but . . . where does it come out?"

Everyone except Zotia and Chuck joined in the quiet laughter. Then Lynn replied, "Shawn, it . . . I'll explain later." She saw Chuck giving her a worried look. She grunted and lowered her eyebrows. "Well, let's keep focused, shall we?"

Then Chuck let out an almost deafening yell and Lynn started yelling for him to push, so everyone else grew suddenly quiet. Soon they heard the sound of a newborn's cry, and Lynn said, "Congratulations! It's a boy! You're a brand new momm--sorry, daddy!"

Chuck, sweating profusely, reached out to take the newborn from Lynn's arms. Zotia joined him, taking her turn to hold the baby, and crying even more than Chuck.

* * *

The next day, Zotia and Chuck arrived in Ten Forward, baby in tote, at the request of Captain Thornburg. When they came through the doors, they saw the last thing they expected: every crew member had gathered, and in one collective roar yelled "SURPRISE!" The entire room was decorated with "New Baby" balloons and banners, there was cake on the bar, and every single person rushed forward to hug the new parents. It was a grand old time.

After a while, Shawn managed to pull Chuck aside while Zotia held the baby. They sat down at an empty table and began talking. "Really, congratulations, Chuck."

"Thanks, Shawn. It was great you could be there."

"What was it like, Chuck?"

"Childbirth? Are you kidding me? Okay, I think the 20th-century comedian Bill Cosby said it best: take your bottom lip and stretch it all the way over your head, and you'll have an idea."

Shawn laughed nervously. "Alright. It doesn't sound pleasant. What did you name him?"

"Garth, after my grandfather."

"Oh that's great. Just think, if Captain Gerding and his comrades hadn't exposed Epsilon and helped us defeat the ships they sent, we wouldn't be here to celebrate this day."

"How is he by the way? I heard he was accepted back into Starfleet."

"Yes, he was, and so was Jason Konrad. I think there was some complication with their ranks, but I don't remember exactly. The other captains and all of their crews simply took civilian lives. I think some of them had families to return to, and others took off for parts unknown. In light of their part in exposing Section 31, their punishments were reduced to nothing."

"Well, that's good," said Chuck. "I know the admirals involved were arrested. That's been all over official communication channels."

"Oh, tell me about it. I've been interrogated about five hundred times about that."

"So when are we departing? The Tomcat's repairs were extensive, I know, but we should be ready to depart by now, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. She's in tip-top shape. The only thing we're waiting for is her first officer."

"Well, don't put all the blame on me, Shawn. Come on," he joked. "Lynn says I'll be fit for duty in just a few days."

"Yeah, I already talked to her. Oh, quick, look busy. Here comes Rudy." He said the last two sentences loud enough for the Admiral to hear.

"Oh, you think I'm coming to reprimand you for something, do you?" Rudy laughed and sat down at the table. "Congratulations, Chuck." He patted him on the back.

"Thanks, Rudy. How's the December?"

"Well, she's a good ship, and she'll be an even better ship when she's out there exploring the stars. I enjoyed having her as my own, but Admirals don't belong on ships. I had to compromise. I'll be taking a posting on the U.S.S. Astral."

"Wow," said Shawn, "that has to be the oldest ship in Starfleet. I've heard it's very cushy in there. It almost never leaves the solar system." He smiled.

Rudy began grumbling. "Yeah, yeah. Rub it in. At least I get to stay on a space vessel. Don't worry, though, I'll come visit you on the Tomcat once in a while for an inspection or two."

The three kept talking and laughing while the party carried on into the wee hours. It wasn't until they couldn't keep their eyes open that they broke up the party. All of the decorations were taken down, and Ten Forward was back to its much calmer self.

* * *

A few days later . . .

Captain Thornburg stood proudly on the bridge of the Tomcat. He requested permission to leave Spacedock, gave the order to release the mooring clamps, and ordered Lieutenant Preston to "take her out". The Tomcat, restored to her former glory, and now with a restored mission of peaceful exploration, set out for the stars, eager to encounter the next big adventure.


End file.
